Why, I have often wondered, are sea-birds sometimes to be heard at the dreary hour of midnight? What takes them away from their rocks at such a time? and in the darkness too. Sailors shudder when they hear them.
It is not the call of birds, they will tell you, but of disembodied spirits.
Magilvray half roused himself at last; but he sought not the shelter of the friendly boughs. He only crept a little closer to the fire, shuddering slightly as if cold, then exhausted nature claimed her due and the sailor slept.
CHAPTER XXV.
"ROW, BROTHERS, ROW"—QUAMBO'S SHARK
STORY—FAST TO A SWORD-FISH.
The night wore on apace. It must have been well into the middle watch when there began to mingle with the toilsome dreams of the grief-stricken sailor the melody of song, and the sound of oars keeping time to the rhythm.
He woke up at last.
Cassia-bud was also awake, and both were sitting up, straining their ears to listen.
Yes, there it was again sure enough, very faint and far away certainly, beyond the reef, but, borne along towards them on the air of night, it was plainly audible.
"Row, brothers, row, the stream runs fast,
The rapids are near, and the daylight is past."